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“You are a sharp one, Mick, and no mistake,”
she said, with a strange hard laugh. The gipsy
was too muddled in his head to notice anything peculiar
in her tone, and he took her answer for a consent.

“That’s right. I thought ye’d
hear reason,” he said. And then he lurched
off to his own quarters.

Diana stood where she was for a moment. Suddenly
she raised her hands to her face, and Tim fancied
he heard a smothered sob. Without stopping to
think what he was risking, the boy crept out of the
shadow where he had been hidden, and caught hold of
her skirts just as she was turning to mount into the
van where the children were.

“Diana,” he said breathlessly, “I’ve
heard all he said. You don’t mean to take
part with him, do you? You’ll never help
to sell those pretty babies like that? I’ll
do anything—­anything you tell me—­if
you’ll join with me to get them sent home.”

In her turn Diana caught hold of him and held him
fast.

“Tim,” she said, “you want to get
off yourself, and you’d do your best for them.
I’ve seen it. But alone you’d never
manage it. I’ll help you, Tim. I won’t
have it on my conscience that I stood by and saw those
innocents sold to such a life. If it had been
to keep them a while longer with us, I mightn’t
have done anything, not just yet, not till I saw a
chance. But whatever Mick and the others say,
I won’t see them taken away unless it is to
go back to their own people.”

“That’s right, Diana,” said Tim.

“And I’ll help you. Keep your wits
about you and be ready when I give the sign.
Now get out of the way and take care. If Mick
hadn’t made himself stupid lately he’d
have seen you were thinking of something. You
mustn’t say a word to the children; leave them
to me,” and again squeezing the boy’s
arm meaningly, she climbed up into the waggon, where
the two little prisoners, tired of waiting for her,
had fallen fast asleep.

Tim, for his part, tumbled into his so-called bed
that night, with a wonderfully lightened heart, and
his dreams were filled with the most joyous hopes.

CHAPTER VIII.

NEW HOPES.

“I am a friend to them and
you.”Winter’s Tale.

It was a good thing Tim had some new ground of hope,
for otherwise the next day or two would have sadly
distressed him. He never once could get near
the children. And, what he found very strange,
Diana herself seemed to be doing her utmost to keep
him from them. Two or three times, especially
when Mick or the Missus happened to be near, she roughly
pushed him back when he was making his way to the door
of the van, where Duke and his sister were. And
at first the boy was not only surprised, but rather
offended.

“What for will you not let me play with them
a bit?” he said to her, half inclined to appeal
to Mick, who did not interfere.

“They’ve no need of you—­keep
out of my way,” Diana answered roughly, at which
Mick and the others laughed as if it was a very good
joke, for hitherto Diana had been always accused of
“favouring” the boy.